


Keep Me Safe (For a few more hours)

by NoPitSoDeep



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Protective!Derek, Scared!Stiles, evil werewolf packs are evil, stiles is terrified
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:04:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoPitSoDeep/pseuds/NoPitSoDeep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is threatened by a rival pack. Not okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Me Safe (For a few more hours)

The only thing Derek can think when the other Alpha looks at Stiles is 'no'. He's a redhead, probably turns into an auburn, mid-sized wolf by the looks of him, and he's eyeing Stiles, /his/ Stiles, like a piece of meat. The alpha licks his lips, and Derek growls, waiting quietly while Scott talks to the offending wolf about territories and boundaries. The guy just nods, and then smiles when Scott is done.   
"How about a trade?" Scott raises his eyebrows, and Derek's chest tightens, because he knows what's coming.   
"What?"  
"A trade." The guy continues, that fucking smile still plastered across his fucking face. Subconsciously, Derek shifts slightly toward Stiles. Stiles, who still appears fully unaware of what's happening. "We'll back off, in return for some compensation. "   
Scott shakes his head incredulously. "What do you want?"  
The Alpha jerks his head toward Stiles, and grins widely, showing his canines. "The human." 

In an instant, everyone in Derek's pack stiffens, and shifts into a defensive posture, all of them looking at Stiles, who just widens his eyes, and opens his mouth slightly. Derek's entire body tenses, even though he knew this was going to happen, and he watches as Scott involuntarily shifts halfway, his fangs elongating, along with his claws, as he glares at the other Alpha.   
"No." He growls, and Derek can feel the anger rolling off him in waves at the very thought of this man taking Stiles. It comes from all of them, everyone in the pack, and from the way Stiles is looking around, Derek is fairly sure he can feel it, too.   
"He's not your property." The Alpha says, taking a step toward Stiles, and the only thought that flashes across Derek's mind is 'No. Mine.', as he leaps from his position above and behind Scott to stand between Stiles and the other wolf.   
"He's claimed." He says in a growl much deeper, and much more guttural than Scott's, allowing his fangs to slip out over his lips as he does. The wolf raises his eyebrows, and his eyes flick toward Stiles incredulously, then back at Derek.   
"You chose him?"  
"He's my mate."  
Derek can hear Stiles's heartbeat pick up as he stands, watching, waiting, half of him praying this wolf will attack so that he can break it in half, prove that Stiles is /his/, the other half hoping that he will go away, disappear, so that Stiles doesn't have to deal with that type or violence. 

The redhead sets himself, crouching slightly while his face begins to shift, and the rest of his pack does the same. There are more of them then there are of Derek's pack, they number about ten wolves, but Derek can't bring himself to care, because it's /Stiles/. He will rip to shreds every one of these wolves, and burn what's left if they touch his mate. Easily. 

There is a pause, like that of the calm just before the storm, and Derek just waits. Everyone is still. Everyone is silent. All that can be heard is the steady hammering of hearts against rib cages, and he sound of Stiles nervously fidgeting with the zipper on his jacket. 

In an instant, the wolf is flying toward him, and the fight begins. Derek doesn't have the time or the attention span to help his pack. But he hears the pained howl of a wolf that is definitely not his, and he grins as he shifts as well, throwing the monster down on his back, and clawing relentlessly at his stomach. He only grins when the other wolf's claws dig into his sides, slicing down through his flesh. 

He is midway through pinning the Alpha down, rebelling in his own superior strength, when he hears Stiles scream. 

No. Derek leaps up, only to see one of the other pack, a small, black wolf with bright yellow eyes, on top of Stiles, pinning him to the ground. The Alpha roars, and tackles the thing, not caring that he's still half-human, not caring that the cuts in his sides are only made worse by this new wolf biting ravenously at them. He simply grabs it by the sides of it's head, and twists viciously, snapping it's neck in one easy motion. 

Stiles has crawled backward by now, and is up against a wall, wide, terrified eyes flicking all over the room. Tears have streaked down his cheeks, and the sight only makes Derek angrier as he stands slowly, and strides to stand before the teen on the ground. He kneels, and hooks one arm under Stiles's legs, the other around his back, and runs. 

-———•———-

Derek runs as fast as a wolf can run. He runs like a bat out of hell, trusting his pack to send these others scampering away. He holds Stiles close, and continues to run, through trees, and streams, and roads full of cars, until they are there. They are at Stiles's house. They are safe, in the purest definition of the word that Derek can find. 

And, summoning a strength only he has, based almost solely on his connection to his mate, Derek jumps, scaling the fence beside Stiles's house, and then up onto the second floor, landing crouched with the smaller body still held safely to his chest. 

Derek only contends to let Stiles go once they are inside, in his bedroom, with Stiles sitting on his bed. Then, the alpha male kneels in front of him, and stays still, letting Stiles choose what to do next. 

Stiles is silent. He stares at Derek with those same wide, curios eyes he always does, and reaches up, wiping a smear of blood from the wolf's cheek with his sleeve. Derek checks himself, and his body shifts to fully human, the blood seeping through his clothes being the only remnants of his wolf left on him. Stiles's fingers slide down over Derek's jaw, and across his neck, coming down to rest on his side, where the cuts are, of course, not healing. He tugs wordlessly at the Alpha's shirt, and Derek obliges, shucking his jacket, and raising his arms above his head so that Stiles can remove the tattered piece of clothing. 

Warm, soft fingers trail over the edge of the bloodied lines, and Derek watch his other hand come up to inspect the other side. He winces and gives a sharp intake of Breath when Stiles pulls at the edge, testing the depth of the wounds. Three lines have been cut deep into his sides, and one on each end of his stomach where the wolves claws were. 

Stiles puts a hand on Derek's shoulder, silently telling him to stay put, and stands up, walking to his closet, and removing the medkit he has now gotten into the habit of keeping there. The teen returns, and kneels behind his mate, beginning to wrap a chunk of gauze covered in an ace bandage around Derek's stomach. Derek allows it, quietly accepting Stiles's help as the bandage is tied behind him. 

The younger man's hands go still on Derek's sides, and then slide up and around, fingers dancing over his collarbone as he is pulled back. Derek unfolds his legs, and lies against Stiles, his head falling slowly into the soft cushion of the boy's stomach. He stares up, still quiet, and watches Stiles, who's fingers continue to trace the smooth muscles of his chest, his neck, sliding over everything he can reach. Derek closes his eyes, and hums deep in his chest, his own hands coming up to move around Stiles' lower back.   
"Scared me." Stiles murmurs, leaning down, and kissing Derek's forehead.   
"Sorry." Derek whispers, tilting his face, and brushing his lips over Stiles'. "I'm sorry, Stiles." And he is. Because Stiles isn't supposed to see this. He's not supposed to see Derek fighting, Derek clawing at someone's stomach. He's not supposed to have to live with that. But he does. And Derek just loves him more for it.   
"S'okay." Stiles breathes against Derek's mouth, fingers coming up to stroke down his cheek. "S'alright." 

Derek sits up, and turns slowly around, careful of the wounds which will take far longer to heal. He kneels in front of Stiles, and takes the smaller man's face in his hands, pulling him into a soft kiss. Stiles' hands simply rest on Derek's chest, not wanting, not rejecting, just a reminder that they're there. They're safe. 

And for now, that has to be enough.


End file.
